


Keep Your Friends Close

by asingularblueberry, Nextredpaladin



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternative Universe - FBI, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Gun Violence, Hawaiian Hunk (Voltron), Hunk (Voltron) is so Pure, I'm Bad At Tagging, Keith & Shiro (Voltron) are Siblings, M/M, Major Character Injury, Minor Character Death
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-01
Updated: 2018-08-09
Packaged: 2019-06-20 08:05:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15529818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/asingularblueberry/pseuds/asingularblueberry, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nextredpaladin/pseuds/Nextredpaladin
Summary: Ever since the recruiter came to visit his school, Hunk has had his heart set on joining the FBI. But when he moves to DC, things start shaping up to be a bit more tough than he expected.





	1. The Start of Something New

**Author's Note:**

> This piece was made as part of the Hunk Appreciation Big Bang. I worked with nextblackpaladin and an amazing artist.

Hunk placed down the final box with a heavy sigh. New apartment, new place, new life. Opening a few of the boxes, he began to sort the contents based on their contents and what room the belong in. He recognized a few of his most treasured possessions peeking through the box in front of him. A photo of him and his mother on his graduation day- diploma in hand, smiles plastered brightly across their faces. Hunk remembered that day. It was full on laughter and hugs and tears. Sighs of relief, tinged with worry and anxiety for the future ahead. But Hunk was happy. Happy because he knew what he was going to do, happy because he was with those who supported him, happy because for just once in his life, he didn’t feel like a picked on nerd with no future ahead for him.

He set the picture down on the table he had moved into the apartment only hours earlier. Hunk wasn’t thrilled about unpacking all by himself, but managed to convince everyone he would do just fine on his own. He had not been doing “just fine”, in fact, he had fallen down the stairs three times, poked himself in uncomfortable places six times, and dropped too many bags of clothing for him to even keep track of at this point. His next goal, he figured was to find some way for him to unpack everything in a few hours so he could magically wake up in his new apartment, his new city, his new life, with everything all set and in place. What a perfect way to start over!

It didn’t feel like starting over though, more like moving on. For years, he’d been studying in college to pursue his dream job. Ever since that damn recruiter in his high school, all he could think about was finally getting accepted into the FBI academy. However, it wasn’t proving to be that simple. For Hunk, achieving a goal like this seemed so out of reach, yet somehow so tantalizingly close.

That same recruiter was the reason he has packed up everything he had ever known and moved away from his comfortable, rural home in Altea, Pennsylvania into the bustling city of Washington DC. A change of pace would be nice, of course, but did he honestly care about that? No. Hunk was here on a mission. And he wouldn’t take no for an answer.

That is of course, until he was sitting in the waiting room of the FBI interview office. He shuffled through the papers in his files, double, triple, quadruple checking that everything was in its right place

_ Birth certificate? Check. Past employment records? Mhm. Past recommendations? Yep, got those. College transcripts? Without a doubt! Photo ID? Yeah, sure, which one do you want? _

Hunk glanced nervously around the room. The other candidates looked so… professional. They had the full getup- suits, ties, pencil skirts, slicked-back hair, tight, high ponytails, fancy formal shoes. He spotted one man in  _ suspenders _ , even. He felt under dressed in his favorite mustard yellow sweater vest and dandelion dress shirt. A pair of freshly dry-cleaned khakis and a worn pair of brown loafers finished attire on the most important day of his life to date.  _ Was it too much yellow? Was there even such a thing as too much yellow?  _ He re-focused his attention to the papers.

His attention was drawn away a few minutes later when another person shuffled awkwardly into the room and into the chair beside him. Hunk recognized this behavior- it was just like his. The man pulled a satchel from off his shoulder and rustled his copper hair. Hunk watched as he nervously pulled paper after paper out of a folder in the bag and place it meticulously into order. Hunk extended his hand.

“Hi! I’m Hunk,” he grinned. “How are you?”

“I-I’m Matt,” the man stuttered before shaking Hunk’s hand. “And I’m very  _ very _ scared right now.”

Hunk smiled at him. They discussed vague little things like the weather, the latest tabloid gossip, news around the FBI campus. He was beaming by the end. The friendly banter between the two seemed to have lifted the dark, cloudy aura in the room. No one else was really talking, but the bright grin that spread across Hunk’s face was practically contagious. A door opened.

“Matthew Holt?” the interviewer called. Matt stood up.

“Welp, that’s me. Guess I’ll be going. Wish me luck!” he said optimistically before confidently crossing the room. Hunk smiled in his wake. It always felt nice to help someone.

After what felt like years later, Matt shuffled out of the recruiters office. He flashed Hunk a quick thumbs up before leaving the office. There was no reason for Hunk to feel even more nervous, but somehow, seeing Matt leave with nothing short of the biggest smile that he’d ever seen, he could feel a bubble of anxiety churn up in his stomach.

“Garrett Hunk?” came the recruiter's deep voice. Hunk raised his hand gently and began to open his mouth. The recruiter gave him a quick glance and smiled. “I read that backwards, I believe. Follow me please, Hunk Garrett.”

Hunk followed the man through the door. He nodded quickly to the door behind him. The older man gestured for him to close it. Hunk delicately closed the door.  _ I must look like this is my first time seeing a door. What the hell am I doing? _

“Please, have a seat,” the recruiter smiled. Hunk sat in front of him, taking note of his features. Tall, huskily built, with jet black hair and a pure white streak through it. Scars adorned his face and gave him a strong sense of intimidation. It was working, for sure. Hunk’s leg bounced and he could feel sweat start to form along his browline. “My name is Takashi Shirogane. May I see your resume?”

Hunk handed it to him and gave the biggest smile he could manage. He could feel his palms tremble slightly as Takashi flipped through the numerous pages of resources. Takashi finished his examination of the files and wrinkled his face at the end. Hunk felt the color fall from his face.

Takashi looked up at him and peeled a sticky-note off of the back off the biggest final. Showing it to Hunk, he let out a small chuckle, “Tell your mother that you’re doing great.”

Blood rushed quickly back to Hunk’s cheeks, causing him to blush hotly. In front of him was a bright pink sticky-note with blue, loopy, cursive lettering and a massive lipstick kiss in the bottom corner, saying “You’re gonna do great, sugar pie!- Love Mama!”

“I’m so sorry, sir. My mother-”

“-is a wonderful person for caring about the well-being of her son. Does she know what kind of job this is though? How dangerous it is?” he asked with a look of great concern. Hunk nodded rapidly.

“I’ve wanted to work for the FBI since I was in junior high. A recruiter came to my school to talk about it. My mom has been believing in me ever since I told her. She’s my number one,” Hunk cheerfully said. Takashi nodded in light of this and focused his attention back on to Hunk’s paperwork. 

“Intelligence Analyst…  _ Special Agent _ ? Really?” Takashi questioned, tipping glasses down from the bridge of his nose. He squinted at Hunk, sizing him up. Hunk’s leg starting bouncing, slowly at first, but rapidly picked up, causing the chair under him to squeak slightly with every small movement.

“Yes, sir! I know I’m young, but I’ve truly worked my butt off trying to get here. I’ve worked for many years to make it to this point. I won’t stop now,” Hunk said confidently. Confidently was an understatement- he was beaming. There was no way that he could not feel an intense feeling of pride swelling up inside of him. After everything he had done, hours of studying in his room, missing his friends birthday parties, moving away from his home, he hoped that it wasn’t for nothing. He knew it couldn’t be.

The rest of the interview went smoothly. Hunk wasn’t quite expecting there to be so many easy questions, especially considering the fact that he was applying for a very coveted position. All in all, it was just a few more minutes before he was given his resume once more and escorted out, Despite all sorts of doubts and insecurities swelling and swirling through in the back of his head, Hunk felt good.

The best course of action after such a great interview seemed to be a day off. But something in the back of his head wanted him to push his luck just a bit more. He pulled the door shut on his small car and sat behind the wheel for a few moments, letting the last of his anxiety melt from his body like ice cream on a sunny day. Hunk started the car and drove back to his apartment.


	2. New Friends are Made of... Diner Food?

The boxes greeted Hunk at the front door. He sighed and threw his jacket onto a chair before sitting down in the middle of the floor to fiddle with some of the boxes. _So much for a day off, I guess._

It felt good to be getting something done. In his old house, Hunk had developed the tendency of waiting and procrastinating until he absolutely _had_ to do something. Projects saved until 15 minutes before they were due (and still getting A’s), plans made in less than an hour (which his friend’s parents never enjoyed), and meals made just seconds before his parents would “close the kitchen” (though he knew they enjoyed the smells from all the way across the house). But the boxes couldn’t wait. They held his favorite memories, his old life, his past, present, and future. Seeing it all packed away was too much for Hunk. He needed it back. After all, he was hundreds of miles from everything he had ever known except-

“Mom!” Hunk yelled into the phone. He heard his mother chuckle on the other side of the line.

“Is it nice there?” she asked. Hunk groaned on and on about it being too smelly, too noisy, and way too busy. “Sweetie, you signed up for this. Speaking of- How’d the interview go?”

“It went really, really well! I can’t believe that they actually might like me. Mom, imagine me! Your son! An actual FBI agent! ‘Hi, I’m Agent Hunk Garrett of the FBI, and I’m here to pet your dog’. I’m so excited right now!” Hunk replied, slowly getting more and more excited.

His mother let out a lighthearted sigh. “Did you see my note though?”

“Oh… uh, yeah. I didn’t notice it in my resume until the recruiting officer took it out and said to tell you that I was quote, ‘doing great’ unquote. HE SAID THAT, MOM, RIGHT IN FRONT OF ME! I literally have never been more excited. Okay, that’s a lie, but still!”

The two chatted for a bit longer, giving his dad the time to come home and talk to Hunk as well. Even his younger brother joined in on the fun. But they had to start dinner and Hunk had more boxes to unpack. “Tell Noa I love him! Take care guys!” he said as he hung up the phone.

Boxes were boring, even with all the necessary furniture to unpack. The tables he had set up were cluttered with so much stuff, he had no idea if he could even fit dinner onto the it. He picked up the phone again.

“Hello?” came the voice on the other side. Hunk could feel the smile spread across his face.

“Pidge, it’s me, Hunk!”

“Hm… what’s our super secret code number?”

“8.944.”

“HUNK, IT’S YOU!” Pidge exclaimed. The two laughed briefly. Pidge was Hunk’s best friend from even before high school. They had been the one who witnessed Hunk write his first line of code. They had been there when his first robot failed at making a milkshake. They had been there when Hunk graduated, mainly because they were also graduating with him, a year early though. Needless to say, the two of them were close. “So, what can I do for you, bud?”

“Whatcha doin’ tonight? I’m in the area- for good.”

“Dude, no way. You found a place? In D.C?” Pidge asked in disbelief.

“Yup. And I’m sick of boxes.Take me somewhere! I wanna meet people!” Hunk begged.

Pidge agreed and said that they would text him the details. Sure enough, less than a minute later, Hunk’s phone sounded with a new message. Pidge and their friends had a weekly get-together at a local restaurant, a diner in particular. Apparently, the diner had a little bit of everything and Pidge was sure that he could find _something_ he would like to eat. He raced into the bedroom to find a more suitable and casual attire, seeing as the wool from the sweater vest had suddenly become itchy and insufferable and the yellow of the shirt too childish, at the thought of meeting new people.

The diner was coincidentally only a few blocks from his home, according to the map. He pulled the door to his apartment shut behind him and locked it. Down the hall, he spotted a figure start to approach him. He looked around in the hallway around him- perhaps another resident? The figure started sprinting directly at him. Hunk froze in place and squeezed his eyes shut. To his surprise, he felt arms fling around his waist only seconds later. He opened his eyes and looked down to see none other than Pidge. He had forgotten how menacingly short they were.

The walk to the diner was full of chatter. Since Pidge had moved to DC just weeks after graduation, and Hunk was busy with his studies, the two sorely missed spending time in the school’s computer lab and discussing _everything_ they could think about. In the cool, DC evenings, Pidge apparently made it a habit to walk around the Tidal Basin and feed the ducks they saw. They told him about all sorts of different cool places and niche shops that might suit his new life. Hunk quickly realized that he had no idea what he was going to say his job was, if he even got the job.

Bells from the door to the diner clanged as they walked into the room. Of course- it didn’t matter very much, there were bells in Altea too, but the fact that they existed outside of rural Altea, excited Hunk somehow. Pidge, taking his hand, pulled him towards a well worn booth. A group of people sat chattering amongst themselves. Pidge pulled him down by the shoulder and whispered some crucial information to him, “So, DC is full of _very_ important people. Not only are there diplomats, bureaucrats, and lots of rats, but you can find like... 700 corporate people on just one street. Luckily, these aren’t any of them. We’re just normal. But be forewarned!”

“Okay, okay, Pidge of the Wild Washington, I think I get it.”

Pidge sat down with Hunk across from them. He squished down next to a tanned man with chestnut brown hair. The man looked at him with bright, pure blue eyes. He felt a bit taken aback by his piercing eyes, making him feel less like a possible FBI agent and more like the rural boy he used to be when he graduated.

“I’m Lance and you must be an angel, because honey- you’re heavenly,” said the blue-eyed man. Hunk blushed awkwardly.

“Hunk. Nice to meet you,” he said as he offered Lance his hand.

Pidge scoffed and rolled their eyes, “That’s Lance. Ignore him, he doesn’t say anything of use most of the time.”

Lance feigned a look of pain and crossed his arms, turning his head away from Pidge’s friendly laughter. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw someone slowly turn to face him. She looked at him- familiar olive skin, dark, taupe hair, glowing amber-ish eyes. _Shay?_

“Hey Hunk.”

Yep, that was definitely Shay.

“You to know each other?” asked Lance. Hunk nodded before Shay spoke up again.

“We used to date in high school. Broke up junior year, a few days before senior promotions.”

“I thought it was mutual!” Hunk whined. Shay giggled a bit.

“It was, I just like being salty. It’s fun!”

“ _How is it fun?_ ”

“Dude, I’m an actor,” she said, very much like an actor. He recalled vaguely that she had shown some interest in theatre during high school, but he never would have guessed that she _actually_ would make it. Then again, the only time he had really seen her act in a school play or two and the occasional crappy school commercial.

“Oh. That’s nice!” Hunk smiled. He turned to the last person at the table. “Hi, I’m Hunk!”

The man took the earbuds out of his ears and wrapped them around his phone, shoving it into his pocket. “I’m Keith,” he responded. With a glinter of mystery in his eye, continued. “Pidge has been talking about you.”

“-WELL, now that that’s all good and done,” Pidge interrupted, “Food!”

Over dinner at the diner, Hunk became acquainted to the new group. There was Pidge, who of course, had been his best friend since high school. Then, Shay, his ex girlfriend. Lance, a massive flirt and a giant question mark, sexuality wise. And lastly, Keith. There wasn’t very much he could say about Keith, mainly because there wasn’t much that Keith said about himself. In fact, Hunk could count on his hands how many words Keith had spoken.

This new group struck a chord within Hunk. He asked all of his starter questions, but didn’t leave it at that- choosing to discuss lifestyle, matters of opinion, and movie reviews. Particularly movie reviews. So at the end of the night, when all was coming to a close, Hunk asked for everyone’s numbers and walked back to his apartment contently.


	3. The Waiting Game

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The wait is on for Hunk!

In the days that followed, Hunk waited anxiously. He had just about given up hope on getting any sort of call back from Takashi, but he still waited, with his phone practically tethered to his side. Hunk checked it _constantly_ for any missed calls, emails, or other forms of contact.

“I put a Tumblr on my resume… maybe I got a message on there!” Hunk whispered desperately. Pidge placed a hand on his shoulder. He turned around, hoping that Pidge had found a letter in his mail that he had missed, despite having gone through it for about thirty times. He threw his hands up in the air in frustration. “It’s no use! I’ll literally _never_ get a call back.”

“That’s not true! For most things, the longer you’re in limbo, the better your chances are!”

“That’s not true.”

“Yeah, it’s not. I just don’t know what else to say...” Pidge looked around awkwardly, fumbling for some more words to add on.

“Well then!” Hunk interrupted, if it could even be called that. “I guess I’d better just pack my stuff and move back to Altea. I’m sure there’s _something_ back there for me.”

Pidge shoved him teasingly, “No way, you nerd. You’re staying right here. And I know just the thing to cheer you up.”

Over the next few days, what ensued for Hunk was a blur. Bar after bar, walk after walk, night after night spent wandering the streets of D.C., searching for some sort of answer to the biggest questions he had in his life, the same ones he knew there would never be an answer for, but were just so… tempting to ponder and ask despite this. The times he enjoyed the most were when Pidge would take him, just him, out to the food trucks on the National Mall. There, he could find almost anything he could possibly want and then some. Of course, it was nowhere even _close_ to what one would expect a potential FBI recruit to eat, but it felt good. That’s what mattered to him.

One such night of aimless strolling along the bustling sidewalks of D.C. brought up the question of jobs once more. Hunk still hadn’t heard back from anyone close to the FBI and he was truly beginning to doubt if he would hear back _at all_. Pidge offered up advice of an open position at their office during the days, working a 9-5 desk job for a tech company. They also mentioned that they had a few friends who needed pet-sitters during their vacations to larger, stately mansions in the countryside, ‘staffed solely by people named Mary, Jeeves, and Alfred’, as Pidge put it. Hunk gratefully accepted to any sort of job Pidge could offer, given that he’d only been in D.C for a few weeks and his saved money was already starting to take a hit.

It was in the middle of one of these odd jobs when Hunk’s phone began to ring. He thought nothing of it at first. Being new to the area meant changing numbers, which brought in a whole slew of missed calls from telemarketers, wrong numbers, and any number of assorted nonsense. After a few rings, however, he fed into his curious temptation and scuttled towards his cell phone, still holding Bella, the 4-foot long ball python. He carefully maneuvered his arms around the massive reptile and checked the number. He didn’t recognize it as a telemarketer or Saranne, the apparently obsessed ex-girlfriend of someone whose phone number seemed to be just a digit or two off from Hunk’s, who was in denial that Hunk was her long lost love. Hunk carefully coached Bella to wrap around his ankle and answered the phone.

“Hello?”

“Hello. Is this Hunk Garrett?”

Hunk gulped down a ball of anxiety the size of a large pool ball and continued. “Yes, that’s me. May I ask who this is?”

“Good to hear from you again, Hunk. This is Takashi Shirogane- we met at the inter-”

“The interview! Yes!” Hunk stammered. He felt a tight pressure suddenly squeeze against his ankle. Hunk sat down on the surprisingly uncomfortable carpet and began to attempt to unwind the snake from around him.

“Well, Mr. Garrett, might I just start out with the fact that you have an _impressive_ rap sheet. Looks like you did everything according to the book. Hell, I’m sure they rewrote the book around you!” Takashi said with a great deal of pride in his voice. “You passed the two major tests to become a SA as well.”

“But something tells me you wouldn’t - could you give me a second?” Hunk asked.

“Of course, but if this is a bad time, I can always call again later.”

“No, no that won’t be necessary!” Hunk reassured him. He put his phone on speaker and continued to attempt to unknot the python from his leg, to varying degrees of success each time. “I just… need a moment to… Bam! There we go! That’s a good ball… python… girl… thing.”

“Is everything alright, Mr. Garrett?” Takashi questioned quizzically. Hunk switched his phone off speaker and began the task of moving the long snake back to her terrarium.

“Everything is just dandy. Dandy like… dandelions?” Hunk added a mental note of dissatisfaction with how the call was going. “But as I was saying earlier… You wouldn’t be calling if there wasn’t some sort of news.”

“You’re just as smart as your resume says,” Takashi laughed awkwardly. Hunk joined in for a moment before their laughter slowly tapered off. “I have bad news.

“You see, for all candidates of a position like this,” the older man continued, “There’s a whole process of selection. However, because the FBI is constantly changing, what we look for in candidates changes as well.”

Hunk sighed. “So this call...”

“It’s a courtesy call. I’m very sorry, Mr. Garrett, you will not be receiving a Conditional Letter of Appointment at this time. I will certainly keep you posted with other job offers, however at this time, my hands are tied,” Takashi finished his last sentence with hesitance and what seemed to be pity. Hunk sat in silence for a moment, letting it all sink in. His hope, his goal, his dream- ripped away from him. He had done _everything_ right! It wasn’t fair, this wasn’t fair or-. “Mr. Garrett, are you still there?”

“Yes, sir. I am. You can call me Hunk, for whatever it’s worth. Mr. Garrett is my father,” Hunk responded flatly. He could practically hear Takashi smile sympathetically through the phone.

“Well in that case,” he said gently, “ Call me Shiro. That’s what my coworkers call me, anyways.”

“Um… but… Taka-- I mean Shiro, you just said I _didn’t_ get the position,” Hunk questioned.

“I said at this time, Hunk. Have faith. I firmly believe your dream can and will come true,” Shiro said calmly. “It’s getting late. Save this number, just in case. Goodnight, Hunk Garrett.”

“Goodnight, Takashi Shirogane.”

The call ended a second later, leaving Hunk alone to his swirling thoughts. Everything felt… empty. Numb. Cold. He stood up and walked around, trying to make some sense of what had just happened, but no matter what he did, he just felt like Bella, slithering around in a cage endlessly for no point than the amusement of others. Maybe that was an exaggeration, but for the time being, it was how he felt.

This job had been his dream, his hope, his motivation for _everything_ . He practically rewrote his own moral code to align with the FBI. And for what? To have him turned away like nothing? Shiro _himself_ said that he was qualified! It just wasn’t fair at all!

Hunk felt his phone vibrate. He absent-mindedly flung his hand towards it and glance quickly at it. _Oh great, a text from Lance. I can only imagine what kind of fun he’s having right now._

     L: Hey!

     H: Hey Lance.

     L: Is everything alright..?

     H: It’s nothing. Don’t worry.

     L: You can tell me if you want to...

     H: I didn’t get the job.

     H: But it’s gonna be alright. I’ll probably just have to be full-time with Pidge.

     L: Well… how about we all meet up? It might cheer you up a bit!

     H: The diner?

     L: Yep! 8pm sharp

     H: I’ll be there.

Hunk shut off his phone again, resisting the urge to chuck it across the room and let Bella crush it into oblivion. He looked at the clock in the kitchen- 7:37. If he was going to make it to the diner, he had to leave now. Lance was right- he might just need some time with his friends to cheer him up. Walking to the door, he turned off the lights and locked the door behind him.


End file.
